


A Day In The Life Of A Beleaguered Neutron

by kalypsobean



Category: Physics (Anthropomorphic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-21
Updated: 2014-12-21
Packaged: 2018-03-02 15:45:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2817623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalypsobean/pseuds/kalypsobean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Professor Tesla's School for Differently Abled Particles is exactly what it says on the box; really, it's much more stressful than the new principal thought it would be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Day In The Life Of A Beleaguered Neutron

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sinesofinsanity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinesofinsanity/gifts).



> Happy holidays to sinesofinsanity! I hope you like your gift.
> 
> (Also, science? I'm so sorry.)

Principal Feynman took this job as a kind of bridge to retirement. Sure, he'd been one of the foremost literati in his field, and well-regarded across several others, but that hadn't earned him the kind of respect that meant people left him alone. Being able to say 'oh, I'm actually running a school now' had that effect.

Apparently, education prior to the doctorate level was no longer a priority.

 

This was no more apparent than when René popped his head into the office. "Rick? I checked Schrödinger's office. He's not in today."

Principal Feynman let out a choice selection of inappropriate words, trusting that the ample amount of tinfoil and egg cartons on the walls would prevent them influencing the students.

"What are we paying him for, if we don't know whether he's even here when we need him?"

"I believe that his exceptional ability to relate to our quantum-enabled students makes termination statutorily prohibited in this circumstance," René says, before wisely closing the door.

Principal Feynman looks longingly at his pile of unopened journals. He would not get to them today; Erwin Schrodinger's absence meant he would be pulling double duty as counselor and administrator, and he would be lucky if he had time enough to absorb enough energy to make it through the day. If only somebody could translate time-reversal to a large scale model without his help... 

... but René starts the daily announcements, and it won't happen today.

He needs a substitute guidance counselor, urgently. Preferably one who doesn't smell like cat.

 

_First period_

Principal Feynman is drafting an advertisement in his head - _equal opportunity employer seeks well-educated researcher for position in elite academic establishment_ \- when René opens the door for a young, unusually small boy dressed entirely in black.

He sends René a curt email while he waits for the boy to stay still and stop phasing through the furniture. It may be antiquated, but he considers his office a closed system and entry should not be willy-nilly, or at least without knocking.

"Neutrino, please, try to sit down," he says. "It's no wonder the other students are uncomfortable around you if you can't take the time to interact with them."

"But sir," Neutrino says, his voice belying his age. "They started it."

Principal Feynman closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, but his thoughts fail to be called into some sense of order. Stress makes his neurons move far too quickly for him to keep up.

"Your parents are some of the oldest particles in the known multiverse, and that gives you certain privileges. They're either jealous of you or afraid of you, and you are not helping."

"But," Neutrino says, but there's a headache blooming between Principal Feynman's eyes and he doesn't want excuses.

"You can show them you're not going to go through their things while they're at rest by proving you can interact. Dismissed," he says, and the bell sounds just at that moment, cutting off any response. He notes Neutrino's shaking hands, but really, there's nothing he can do for the boy.

 

_Fourth period_

The headache has progressed to more than a minor ache, and Principal Feynman has progressed no further on his journals, his reports, or his ad, and he has not magically solved the problems of any of the students who have traipsed through his office.

"Principal Feynman? The lab's on fire." René pokes his head through the door without knocking, again.

"That's chemistry, call Dalton," Principal Feynman roars, perhaps too loud for the soundproofing to adequately absorb. "Not my problem," he says, more quietly, and lets his head sink to the table as René tiptoes out. As long as the Board don't find out, things will be fine.

 

_Fifth period_

Principal Feynman likes to avoid the campus food on principle; he believes it sets a bad example if he's seen too often mixing with the students, even though they're all made of the same building blocks and constantly bounce off each other. He also prefers to absorb in peace, but emergencies are emergencies, and he runs the risk of failing if he doesn't have enough fuel to get through the day. Something has to go in in order to come out, he says, because simplifying it like that is amusing in the sense that it implies that it is the same thing that comes out, like walking through a door.

Professor Compton is on lunch duty and can easily be heard over the chatter of students and the clunking of cutlery. 

"I do not care if you're competing in the Big Bang Memorial or the interschool gala, you are not skipping lunch in case it changes your colour!"

Principal Feynman glances over to the line, where the usual suspects are in a tight group apart from the line. The cheerleaders look quite attractive in their range of hues, and packed together they give off a neat pale yellow that matches school colours. "Now, if any of you paid attention in class you would know that it's your frequency that gives you colours, and not how much you weigh, because you don't weigh anything!"

Professor Compton has never been the sensitive type.

Principal Feynman tries to get out without being noticed, but since he manages to be everywhere, René pops up behind him and blocks the exit. "It's Parents' Day," he says, helpfully.

"Principal! Will you encourage these girls to eat?!" Professor Compton calls, and Principal Feynman decides to flee.

 

_Seventh period_

Instead of taking his lunch off campus, Principal Feynman attempted to do his job by speaking with Dr Akasaki about the Photons and their issues.

"It's just a phase, I assure you," Dr Akasaki says, in his soft, even voice. "Once the Parents' Day exhibition is over, they won't be so worried." Principal Feynman is not so sure, but again, as if René presses it exactly when he judges the situation is most in need of it, the bell rings. "It might reassure them if you were to watch their practice."

Principal Feynman makes a show of grumbling before settling in the bleachers. At least, if he is not in his office, he can't be accosted about anything else.

 

Practice goes well past the end of the school day and Principal Feynman is surprised that at least one of his staff members does understand the concept of time. The dance isn't even that bad, at least, if it worked out that everybody was in sync it would be quite attractive, and present a picture pleasing to the parents. He suspects that the Photons are supposed to come from out of the small groups of footballers and rush towards the front of the stage, when they're not too busy gossiping. He hears the word 'cannon' yelled several times, but it more resembles a wave, or it would, if they weren't all deciding to join in on their own time based on whether they were paying attention or not. 

"It will work on the day," Dr Akasaki assures him, once the students have left. "They just need to have the right energy."

And that, Principal Feynman thinks, is the problem right there.

"René!" he yells, when he gets back to his office. René never leaves, so he's immediately alert and inside the office, this time not even bothering with the door. Principal Feynman will deal with that another time. "Next time Schrödinger's out, get a sub in, will you?"

"Of course, Rick. I'll call Mr Wheeler right away."

And then, blessed silence. Principal Feynman packs his bag and turns out the light, ready to go home before he has to do it all again tomorrow.


End file.
